


How the chair scene could have gone

by trashpseud (fallbekind)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: HYDRA Trash Party, M/M, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-09
Updated: 2014-08-09
Packaged: 2018-02-12 11:39:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2108472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallbekind/pseuds/trashpseud
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Forced submission inspired by that great piece of artwork we all love. You know the one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How the chair scene could have gone

**Author's Note:**

  * For [doomtoast](https://archiveofourown.org/users/doomtoast/gifts).



> Quick prompt fill for Doomtoast, for whom the weekend was still hours away when I was already in the dumpster partying it up.

[Source](http://maxkennedy-requests.tumblr.com/post/91893272176)

 

 

“Mission report.”

Pierce walks in, waves at the armed guards like they’re clowns. They stand down immediately.

“Mission report, now,” he barks.

Bucky is sitting up in his chair, staring into nothing. Not taking into account the frightened looks of the doctors surrounding him, the Winter Soldier almost looks like a kicked puppy.

No one lets Alexander Pierce wait.

The slap reverberates off the concrete walls. A few team members flinch.

Bucky’s head slowly turns back, cheek reddening but otherwise unfazed by being handled like a malfunctioning tool. Still staring into nothing.

“The man on the bridge,” he mumbles, pensive.

Pierce sighs.

Bucky’s eyes flick up. “Who was he,” he adds, almost accusingly. Another sign that something’s up. The Winter Soldier doesn’t do emotions.

Pierce knows it’s time. He nods to the doctors and everyone starts to clear out.

“You met him earlier this week on another assignment,” he says, moving to undo the steel shackles that keep Bucky in place. The door closes and they’re left alone, with just two armed guards peering through the door.

“I knew him,” Bucky says.

Pierce firmly grabs his neck in a sheer display of dominance. It works like a charm. He leads Bucky out of the chair and into the adjacent room. With only a cot and a dresser, it’s as least as depressing as the other one.

This is payback time for yesterday, Pierce thinks. Creeping into his house. Giving him the heebie-jeebies. Making him get rid of Renata. He had liked Renata, damnit. It’s hard to trust people in his field.

Pierce slowly puts Bucky down on the cot.

“Your work has been a gift to mankind,” Pierce says.

Bucky opens his pants, but his eyes shoot daggers. With a few defiant jerks, he kicks out of them and moves into position.

Pierce strolls over to the dresser, takes out lube, a condom and a few tissues. The whole ordeal has gotten him hot and bothered already. There aren’t many people on this planet that can give Pierce chills down his spine, not anymore. Fear and arousal have fused together into one physical reaction long ago, and it’s hard to find, these days.

With the Winter Soldier, he’s always walking a fine line. Either he keeps the upper hand, or he dies. It’s exhilarating. Especially today, seeing the state Bucky is in. He’s remembering. Pierce is rock hard, straining against the seam.

Bucky is stark naked, flat on his stomach, knees apart, arms by his head. Obedient. Pierce is half surprised.

“You shaped the century,” he continues his monologue, making sure to add praise to his tone. “And I need you to do it one more time.”

He takes his time to get ready. Sounds of plastic tearing and liquids squirting fill the room, and then a metal step stool scrapes over the floor as Pierce kicks it towards the bed.

“Society is at a tipping point between order and chaos,” he says, almost conversationally, as he drapes himself over Bucky’s back, fully clothed. Another sign that he’s in control.

“Tomorrow morning we’re going to give it a _push_ ,” and Pierce snaps his hips forward. Bucky exhales sharply, but otherwise doesn’t react. Pierce grabs Bucky’s left thigh and pushes it up and under him, so Bucky is half lying, half crouching. It gives Pierce the perfect angle to start pushing in.

It’s always an incredible rush, having the Winter Soldier below him. Hands splayed out on his back, keeping him down. He could kill Pierce in a hundred different ways, in two seconds or in ten hours, could make him hurt, could torture his loved ones if he so pleased. Instead this bundle of muscles is conditioned to hell, his brain fried over and over so he just takes it. _Lies down for him_ , and takes it.

Today is a little different, though, and that’s why it’s extra good. Something in the Winter Soldier has come to life, and the defiance in his eyes shows Pierce that he needs to be careful.

When he’s got a steady rhythm going, he moves his hands higher up, one in Bucky’s hair, the other on his metal arm. Bucky flinches, but Pierce leans in, puts all his weight on it as he picks up the speed.

“But… you don’t do your part, I can’t do mine”, he breathes in Bucky’s ear. “And HYDRA can’t give the world the freedom it deserves.”

Bucky is whimpering now, mouth hanging open. His brow is furrowed, as if he doesn’t understand what’s happening. His hands start to grip the sheets. He’s feeling the build-up, too.

The nice thing about the bionic arm is that if you pay close attention, you can see when it’s about to move. So as the slight ripple moves through the plates, Pierce grabs the screwdriver he had ready and forces it in the gap in the armpit.

The arm goes down completely, just turns itself off, and Bucky wails.

Pierce laughs as he comes, heart racing in his throat.

Close one, this time. Great session. He pats Bucky’s butt cheek as he climbs off and tucks himself back in.

Bucky hasn’t moved, but as Pierce opens the door to walk out, he hears a soft, broken “but I knew him”.

Nothing a good wipe can’t fix.


End file.
